


Conversations in Another World

by scarletjedi



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletjedi/pseuds/scarletjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a possible conversation between Kurt Hummel and David Karofsky if Karofsky had joined Glee with the other jocks after the Single Ladies play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations in Another World

**Author's Note:**

> oneshot. unbetad. enjoy.

“Hey, Kurt! Wait up!” 

Kurt considered not stopping. Rehearsal had gone over and the mocha he’d had before hand had clearly been not enough caffeine. Also, it was Karofsky, and while the bully had been more of an ex-bully since he had—to the surprise of all—chose Glee over football with Finn and the other players, he had made it a point to have as little to do with Kurt as possible since. 

Kurt, funnily enough, was absolutely fine with this, especially since Shue hadn’t realized it was happening, and had not yet forced them into working together in a misguided attempt to make them friends. 

There was absolutely no reason for Karofsky to want to talk to Kurt, which was the main reason why Kurt _did_ stop. What could he possibly have to say. 

Kurt half-turned and waited for the other boy to catch up. Karofsky jogged up to him, “You’re fast, you know that?” 

“I have practice,” Kurt said, wryly, and Karofsky winced, dropping his head. Kurt sighed, “No, stop,” he said. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.” 

“No,” Karofsky said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It wasn’t. I deserve far worse than that, and that’s…well, part of the reason why I wanted to talk to you.” He looked up. “Do you have a minute?” 

Kurt thought longingly about a hot Venti latte, then sighed. “Sure,” he said. “Why not.” 

Karofsky smiled, and gestured for Kurt to lead the way. Kurt headed outside, it was still warm enough that Kurt wanted to be outside as much as he could, and the lacrosse team was practicing on the field by the stadium. If Karofsky turned out to be luring him to his doom, at least they’d hear the screams. 

Karofsky was quiet as they walked, and it wasn’t until they’d passed though the gates and were walking along the running track that he began to speak. “I never apologized for before,” he said. “I was going through a lot of personal shit, still am. I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.” 

Kurt waited for a minute, but nothing else was forthcoming. “That’s it,” Kurt said. “You brought me out here to apologize?” 

“You picked here,” Karofsky pointed out. “And—well—yeah, kinda.” 

“Right,” Kurt said, flatly. “Because nobody else goes through ‘shit’ as a teenager. What gave you the right—” He cut himself off. If that behemoth thought that a simple “sorry” was enough to make up for all the crap Kurt had gone through at his hands-- “Bye.” 

“Wait, Kurt!” Karofsky called out, following when Kurt spun and reaching out, but not, actually, touching. Again, something Kurt didn’t expect, and he stopped. “I mean it. I was a royal ass to you, and I get it if you don’t forgive me, I do. Hell, I wouldn’t forgive me, but I mean it, I’m _sorry_.” 

And damnit if Karofsky didn’t sound choked up about it, if Kurt didn’t turn and see _actual tears_ in Karofsky’s eyes. 

“You are,” he said softly, bewildered. Kurt huffed out a small laugh. “Huh.” 

Karofsky’s face twisted, and he looked down, and the raw _hurt_ on his face was enough. Kurt sighed, and stepped back towards him, raising a cautious hand and placing it on Karofsky’s arm. “It’s okay,” he said. “I believe you.” And he did, which was the strangest part. Kurt couldn’t stay angry in the face of such honest regret, and where the anger had been he found only sympathy. 

“Come on,” Kurt said, and tugged on Karofsky’s arm until he moved again. Karofsky sniffed, and nodded, and let himself be pulled until they were once again walking around the track. They stood closer than they had before, the truce tentative, but holding. 

“Why me?” Kurt asked, at length. “Out of everyone in glee, why did you pick me?” 

Karofsky snorted, and didn’t answer for a long moment. When he did speak, it was so quiet, Kurt almost didn’t hear it. “When you came out to your dad, what did he say?” 

The non-sequitur threw him, and Kurt sputtered for a moment, saying “uh, that he already knew? Something about wanting heels for my third birthday being a clue, but what does that…” he trailed off, and turned to stare at Karofsky. He couldn’t be saying what Kurt thought he was. 

“There’s nothing like that in my past,” Karofsky said, and Kurt dug a thumbnail into his palm, just to see if it was real. “No fashion, no showtunes. Nothing to prepare my dad for—” He cut himself off. 

“David,” Kurt said slowly, stopping.. “Are you g—”

“Shut up!” Karofsky said, looking around, wildly. “Yes, but don’t say it. Not out loud.” He hunched his shoulders, his face reddening. “I’m not ready for that, yet.” 

Kurt boggled, but one word stood out. “Yet?” 

Karofsky offered him a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Yet.” 

He started to walk again, and Kurt followed, wide-eyed as Karofsky started to talk. “Growing up, you hear things, you know? Gay guys do this, like that stuff, sound like this.” Kurt nodded. It had been, in part, how, Kurt had figured himself out, identifying with those men. “I—don’t.” Karofsky continued. “And it took a while for me to learn that I could be, you know, and not be like that.” 

Kurt bristled. “There is _nothing wrong_ with being _like that._ ” 

Karofsky, the ass, laughed. “Cool it, Hummel, I get that. But, _I’m_ not _like that_ and it took me a while to realize that I don’t have to be.” 

It made, unfortunately, all too much sense. Karofsky was confused about his own sexuality, couldn’t find someone like him to identify with, and so he took it out on the one boy who represented everything he thought he had to be and wasn’t. It didn’t make it right, but…Kurt could understand. 

“It’s brave of you,” Kurt said at last. “Telling me. I mean, my dad already knew and tell him was probably the most terrifying thing I ever did.” 

Karofsky shrugged. “Felt right, you know? Worst case scenario, you used it to get revenge and then, at least, I’d get to stop worrying about it.” 

There was something dark, bleak, in the way Karofsky said that, that Kurt stopped again, his hand on Karofsky’s arm. 

“David,” he said, and his eyes searched Karofsky’s face. Karofsky’s eyes were tired, older than they had any right to be, and red around the edges. “Don’t joke like that, okay?” He said. Kurt _knew_ what that darkness meant, had been there himself before clawing his way up and out into the fabulous sunshine. The idea of anyone down there…

Karofsky looked at him for a long moment, before he nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. 

“I mean it,” Kurt said. “And if you ever feel that way—ever—you call me, you hear? Call me!” 

“I will!” Karofsky said, then calmer. “I promise.” 

Kurt nodded, and they walked on. “Good.” He sighed. “This is not where I expected to end up today.” 

Karofsky chuckled. “I know how you feel.” He coughed. “Thank you, you know, for listening and not just…yeah.” 

“You’re welcome,” Kurt said, letting just enough self-importance bleed through that Karofsky snorted, and bumped their shoulders together. It was oddly nice, that display of manly affection, like Kurt was just another guy, that Karofsky wasn’t afraid to treat him as ‘one of the guys’—it was such a relief that Kurt bumped back. 

“You know,” Kurt said, after a while. “Part of what was so scary for me was not having anybody to talk to.” He shrugged his shoulder. “You can talk to me, if you want.” 

“I’d like that,” Karofsky said. “It’s big of you.” 

Kurt shrugged. “What are friends for, right?” 

Karofsky looked at him. “Friends?” 

“If you want,” Kurt said, looking back with just a hint of a challenge. He raised his eyebrow. 

“I think I’d like that,” Karofsky said, and smiled, soft and shy, and Kurt felt something flip in his chest. Karofsky really wasn’t bad looking, once you stripped away the angry. 

“Good,” Kurt said. “You can start by buying me coffee the next time you’re having a crisis of conscience. So…tomorrow.” 

Karofsky grinned. “Sure thing, Hummel.” 

Kurt nudged him. “My friends call me Kurt.” 

Kar— _Dave_ nudged him back. “Sure thing, Kurt.”


End file.
